What is a Fuzzball?

One question I hear more than any other is What's a Fuzzball??" Allow me to explain:

A Fuzzball is a 30-year-old fallen debutante who lives in Houston, TX with a bossy dog and an even bossier parrot who she SWEARS is the reincarnation of Napoleon Bonaparte.

A Fuzzball prefers animals to most people, because people can really suck sometimes.

A Fuzzball loves music, ALL music ALL of the time. If she's not listening to it, then she's singing it.

A Fuzzball has a mad love for all things British, especially their actors.

A Fuzzball is blissfully happy in a bookstore, preferably one with good music playing in the background. If you look under a Fuzzball's bed you'll usually find an entire library of books that she has dropped there after falling asleep reading.

Fuzzballs are usually incurable romantics, ridiculously optimistic, and bent on making the world a happier place.

Your typical Fuzzball will probably have a completely bizarre sense of humor. Just go with it, it will take you to funny places.

You should also be aware that Fuzzballs are giant nerds. Seriously. Science fiction, computers, the whole shebang.

Fuzzballs are also budding photographers. They love looking at the world through a lens and finding new ways to be creative.

Oh...and you can also look for a Fuzzball in one of the best movies ever made. ;)

Life is not fair. I know I have it good; I'm not saying that I'm not very lucky in many ways, but dammit, sometimes something happens that just makes me want to throw a chair through a window. ARGH! Life is not fair.

A new Fuzzcast is coming soon, probably Tuesday. I just wasn't motivated enough to put the finishing touches on it tonight. It's been a warm, gray, wet weekend, blech. I feel like I'm going to start growing mold the minute I walk outside...

Oh hey, there is something that I've been pondering: Is it ALL men that are dense, or just the ones that I encounter? A secondary question would be: Is he dense or just a jerkus maximus? I mean, sometimes you just want to tap on his forehead, or the phone receiver, or the computer monitor (whatever access to him you might have) and say "SERIOUSLY? You REALLY don't get it? REALLY???"

This week is crazier than last week, except that I'm not sick *knock wood cross fingers*. I'm very sad to say that I have to send my kickass macro lens back tomorrow to rentglass.com, so I've tried to take some cool pics with it up until the very end. Check out the latest ones of monarch butterflies and Monty aka Senor Screechypants aka the reincarnation of Napoleon Bonaparte. He's very fancy.

This next week is going to be an enormously stressful one at work. Posting will be scarce or non-existent as I am not only busy, but sick as well. >:| Blech. I will be checking e-mails, so if you've got cool stuff to tell me, send it on! In the meantime, I'm sporting a sexy hoarse voice from coughing and I'm cranky as all get-out. FUZZBALL OUT.

UPDATE: I might be cranky, but I have not lost my sense of humor, as evidenced by the following picture taken this evening:

When I get really angry about something I usually sit down to write a blog post about it. I furiously write a thinly-veiled post about the situation and I get all of my rage out, fully intending on hitting the "save" key and publishing it. Then I reach the end of my post, I re-read it, hit Ctrl-A, and then hit Delete. It's cathartic, I have to say. I've worked through my anger but I haven't thrown it up on the internet for all of the world to read. I've wanted to, but past experiences have taught me that LIUF is not the place to air certain grievances.

Oooooh I've got one today that's a doozy, but I'm going to stand firm and tight-lipped. I just finished writing a long, flaming post that I would LOVE to slap up here, but I'm going to be a grown-up and hit delete. *deep cleansing breath*

ARRRRRRGHHHHHH Okay all I'll say is this: INTELLIGENCE AND EDUCATION DO NOT EQUAL MATURITY.

If you guys love me at all, you'll chip in and buy me this. Otherwise none of you will ever be able to visit because I'll be spending the rest of the summer in my knickers and nothing else. I love my new apartment, I do, but the air conditioning unit is CRAP. It's wee tiny and it's supposed to cool a two story questionably-insulated multi-window townhouse? No way.

I am willing to adjust to a warmer home, but this is ridiculous. I can't seem to get the temperature anywhere below 76-78 degrees. That might not seem warm to some of you, but I am a freakin' polar bear, okay? I like my house cool.

Maybe I should just replace my couch with a plastic tub containing a giant block of ice. Ohhhh I'm imagining it now. A big block of iiiiiiice...

When you read the article you see that the son of Houston Astros first base coach Jose Cruz is missing and wanted for theft. However reading the headline "Missing Astros coach's son wanted for theft" you would think that the father is missing, not the son. Dammit, people, you're fucking journalists. You write for a living. Is proper grammar too much to ask? AAARRRRGGHHH THE AGONY OF MISPLACED MODIFIERS!!!!

I will now rewrite the headline, if only to ease my troubled soul:

Missing son of Astros coach wanted for theft

OR EVEN

Astros coach's missing son wanted for theft

Yeah, like I said, I am such a nerd.

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TODAY ON MEATLESS: I solve the avian flu problem. Just thought you'd like to know. :D